The Experiment
by WraithTemplar
Summary: "You didn't think the game was over yet, did you, Mr. Pines?" the man with the sunglasses observed, as he stared through the window at his young captive. "The game has only just begun. And you're losing." Rated M to be on the safe side.
1. Chapter 1

The boy ran.

He ran from the chaos and the violence. Dipper's ears could still pick up the werewolf's screams and the gunfire, but he ignored it. Or rather, he wished he could.

It had been just another normal day for Dipper, although with the bizarre sights Gravity Falls had to offer, Dipper used the word 'normal' lightly. Grunkle Stan had sent him out to set up signs along the road, to help tourists and ultimately promote Stan's business. Sometimes, Dipper wondered if attracting tourists was worth spending an hour or two in the rain. The kid swore he was going to give Stan a piece of his mind when he got back. That is, _if_ he made it out alive.

Then again, he partially had himself to blame, too. Being the adventurer he was, Dipper couldn't resist the temptation to take advantage of Stan's vague chore request, sneaking into the woods to explore after he had finished setting up the signs.

That was his first mistake.

Dipper had brought along his sketch pad, just in case he sighted another mystery that needed documenting. He knew there were still wonders out there beyond the town of Gravity Falls, and the boy simply couldn't sit still and watch such opportunities pass by. Boy, was he right when he figured he needed the sketch pad. He'd spotted a fanged, red-eyed werewolf in the distance, and had decided to jot down a sketch of the monster while he had the chance. After all, creatures come and go in Gravity Falls, but Dipper had never seen anything like this werewolf before.

That was his second mistake.

The creature had spotted Dipper, all right. When that werewolf pounced on the boy, ready to eviscerate him with its claws, something—or rather, someone—had intervened. Bullets had rang out suddenly, catching both Dipper and the werewolf off guard. Dipper, thankful that the gunplay had prevented the wolf from slicing him in half, had taken the opportunity to run like hell.

So, here he was, sprinting as fast as his legs could carry him, his young heart jackhammering in his rib cage. He could only imagine the look on Grunkle Stan and Mabel's faces when they found out what he had seen. Stan would probably tell the kid off, dismissing Dipper's encounter as the boy's own paranoia. More likely than not, Mabel might believe her brother, but she'd probably be more concerned about stitching her torn sweater back together than listening to Dipper's story.

Dipper kept on running, only stopping when his knees threatened to give out from exhaustion. As he leaned on a moss-covered tree, panting for air, he could barely hear voices in the background.

"Sir…the infected target has been…no, he got away," a voice stated, the space between the unknown person and Dipper causing the conversation to fade in and out like a broken car stereo. "Copy that…spread out…the boss…him alive."

Dipper noticed a group of about three or four men, all armed with various firearms, and all wearing black combat uniforms. Through his limited view, the kid could barely make out the red and white shoulder patch on each of the outfits. The soldiers—at least, Dipper assumed they were soldiers—began moving in his direction, their weapons ready to fire. Questions raced through Dipper's mind? Who were these guys? Why did they refer to that werewolf as infected, and what was the creature infected with?

It took a second for the boy to realize those soldiers were after him. When it finally clicked, Dipper crept away slightly, hoping to move past the troopers without any of them noticing. Given how they were armed, and how mysterious they looked, chances were they wouldn't show mercy to him just because he was an unarmed teen.

The thirteen-year-old waited until the soldiers weren't looking, then bolted away the first chance he got. He had to get back to the Mystery Shack, and warn Grunkle Stan and Mabel, and he needed to warn them fast! Already he could see the sky begin to grow dark. Grunkle Stan had warned him not to stay out late, after all. His family would get worried and start searching for him soon, and if they came across those soldiers…

Dipper tried not to dwell on what would happen in such a scenario.

He was so caught up in his thoughts that he barely had time to react as he tripped over a tree root. The boy's face made brutal contact with the mud and twigs that littered the forest, and a pained cry escaped his lips before he could stop himself.

Dipper slowly opened his eyes, and had to bite his tongue to keep from screaming, lest the soldiers find him.

The werewolf's carcass lay dead at the younger twin's feet, bullet holes riddling the corpse. The boy felt sick to his stomach at the sight, but he couldn't turn his head away. He reluctantly nudged the body with his foot, letting out a sigh of relief when the dead werewolf didn't move. Dipper had seen enough horror movies to know that the monster or killer always might come back for revenge later.

He was about to head back to the Mystery Shack when he noticed something lying on the ground. It was his sketch pad. In his hurry to escape, Dipper had completely forgotten about it. As he jogged over to retrieve the book, Dipper found himself staring in curiosity.

Hadn't the notebook been closed when he dropped it?

Concern overwhelmed the boy as he stared at the page. Dipper now knew someone had found his sketch pad. He could tell from the crudely-constructed message drawn right next to the unfinished werewolf sketch.

He found himself skimming through the newly-written note before he realized it:

 _You can't run forever!_

Four words. Four words was all it took for Dipper's heart to start racing again. Someone was watching him. Someone was _hunting_ him. But who, and why?

Dipper roughly pushed the concerns out of his brain. The threatening note could wait. Right now, he needed to get back to the Mystery Shack and warn the others. The younger twin was about to take off running again, but a noise stopped him.

Dipper froze. That noise was _definitely_ a chuckle. A cruel chuckle, coming from behind him; one that seemed to tell Dipper how hopeless his situation was.

Next thing the boy knew, pain exploded in the back of his head.

Dipper stumbled, painfully smacking the damp ground for the second time that day. Dipper's mind yelled at him to get up, but his dazed body refused to listen. In his dimming vision, the kid could barely make out a figure kneeling beside his semi-conscious form.

The twin could tell from the familiar patch on his shoulder that this newcomer was with the soldiers hunting Dipper earlier. The man was armed with a handgun, and Dipper figured the weapon was the blunt force that had whacked him in the head to begin with. Even though the man's eyes were hidden behind a pair of sunglasses, Dipper could tell they were filled with a coldness that made the boy's skin crawl.

"Nothing personal, young man," the assailant stated in a smooth voice. Due to the pain in his head, the kid could barely hear the apathetic response. "Call it…an experiment."

The man's foot collided with Dipper's head, and as the boy's consciousness finally gave out, he wondered what would happen to him now, or if Mabel and Stan would even notice he was gone.

For his family's sake, Dipper hoped they wouldn't end up in the same situation he did.

* * *

 **I actually had a dream involving the characters of Gravity Falls and Resident Evil. After a little thought, and some research, and this creation was born.**

 **I'm thinking about continuing this, and if there's anything I can improve on, I'd be happy to listen. Thanks, and have a great day! :)**

 **Disclaimer: I own none of the franchises involved in this story. They all are property of their respective owners.**


	2. Chapter 2

Given that Dipper had always had trouble sleeping when he was younger, he wasn't sure whether to be thankful or annoyed that he was slowly coming to.

The twin's eyes opened partway, revealing nothing but bright blurs. He could, however, distinguish two shapes from the stark whiteness of his vision. Just as Dipper's sight was beginning to focus more, his hearing kicked in, and the sounds of dialogue began to filter through. After a few minutes, Dipper began to fully wake up, his vision now able to identify two figures in front of him. That was when Dipper began to notice his surroundings a bit more.

The first thing Dipper noticed was the upright lab table he was strapped to. He felt the cold metal of the table on his back. The sting of a needle made him aware of the IV tube in his left arm. The younger twin struggled to slip his hands through the leather restraints. He didn't make any progress before his right arm flared suddenly. He could feel the burning sensation of inflamed tissue; it felt like someone had cut his arm open. It was excruciating. Dipper had to bite his tongue to keep from screaming in pain. He continued to listen to the two figures' conversation.

"…simply don't see why we should go through with it," one figure gruffly stated, his voice sounding as rough as a gravel road. "You said it yourself, sir. He's just a witness."

"This 'witness' is a ticking time bomb." Dipper recognized the smooth voice. It was the "man with the sunglasses," as Dipper preferred calling him by now. "A time bomb that could put this organization, including you, into an early grave. That's why I'm asking you to run these tests, Dr. Jackson."

"I understand," the scientist—Dr. Jackson—replied. "But, sir, what if he doesn't survive? What then?"

"If anything goes wrong, you know what to do. Mr. Pines is just another lab rat. We have plenty more, and there are always others we can 'acquire.' You will terminate the subject if all else fails, am I clear?"

Dipper didn't like the implications of the word, 'acquire.' It made him wonder if there were any other 'lab rats' stuck in the same situation he was. He just hoped Mabel and Grunkle Stan weren't trapped here with him. He couldn't bear the thought of his innocent twin sister subjected whatever horrible experiments he would be forced to go through.

"Terminate the—? The hell I will!" Jackson argued. "He's just a boy! Besides, we have no idea if this procedure will work. You kill him now, and you'd be throwing everything…away…" the good doctor's voice drifted off suddenly.

Even with his hazy vision, Dipper could make out the source of Jackson's interruption. The teen was uncertain if he was seeing things, but he could've sworn he noticed a shade of red in the leader's eyes. Jackson seemed to notice this too, if his shrinking posture was anything to go by. "Fine," he stated. "All I'm saying is that the results may vary with this one."

"Then for your sake, I hope that this time, the results are satisfactory," the man in the sunglasses snapped. "Begin with the first stage. Take care not to damage our lab rat this time." He walked off, leaving Jackson alone with a semi-conscious Dipper.

"Let's get this over with," the researcher sighed, turning to follow the Agent Smith wannabe out of the stark white chamber.

Dipper would've tried to catch a better glimpse of his two captors, but the brightness of the room constantly forced him to squint just to keep his eyes open. The teen was about to try to break free again when he felt a cold liquid enter his arm. Clearly it was some type of security measure. Dipper's best guess was that the man in the sunglasses was protective toward his research. The younger Pines twin suddenly felt himself grow tired, and he knew that his already futile attempts to escape had now become borderline impossible.

 _Oh, well. At least the pain in my arm is gone._

That was Dipper's last coherent thought before the sedative slowly dragged him into a dreamless slumber.

* * *

This time, Dipper didn't stay out cold for as long. Either the sedative was meant to act for a short term, or Dipper was developing a resistance to getting knocked out. His eyes adjusted much more easily than the last time he was awake, so he decided to try opening them again.

The once bright lights in the facility were now a flickering dance of white flashes. The makeshift lightshow's creepiness was only aided further by the fact that Dipper was alone. The familiar feeling of cold metal reminded Dipper that he was still restrained, and he assumed that any attempt to escape would only knock him out once more. If only that needle was out of his arm…

Another bright light shining in Dipper's face rudely interrupted his train of thought. The thirteen-year-old turned his face away from the glow, wishing his hands were free so he could shield himself further from the light.

"Jesus…" a voice muttered. Dipper didn't recognize the voice at all. Maybe it was another one of those militia soldiers.

"Hey. Hey, kid. You awake?" the voice prodded, lowering the flashlight that was responsible for the bright glare seconds before. Dipper knew the newcomer wasn't with those militia troops; the teen could tell that much from the uniform the man wore. The man's eyes showed genuine concern, instead of the coldness Dipper had seen in the eyes of his captors.

"Where…where am I?" the boy croaked out, his voice coming off more ragged and hoarse than before he was captured.

"In hell," was the soldier's reply, as if it were the most obvious answer in the world. "Or at least, the closest alternative. Sit still, I'm gonna try to get you out of here."

Dipper was thankful the man freed his right wrist first, so the boy could pluck the IV out of his left arm. That was when Dipper noticed the bandage on his right arm. He didn't know if it was the drugs or his own paranoia, but something about the red stain on the bandage made the kid's heart start jackhammering in his chest. What had they done to his arm, and why?

Within moments, the restraints were unlocked, and gravity wasted no time in pulling the twin to the cold floor. He would've smacked his face against the tile had the soldier not caught him. "Prophet? You there?" the man called over his radio.

"Dee-Ay, is that you?" another voice answered. Dipper could tell this voice belonged to a woman.

"Yeah, it's me. I just found some kid shackled up here. Poor guy must've been one of the test subjects. I'll get him out of this facility as soon as I'm finished."

 _Finished with what?_ Dipper thought. What was this soldier here for, anyways?

"Copy that," the woman on the other end replied. "Do you have the data?"

"Not yet, but I'll find it as soon as I can. Right now, this kid's safety comes first," the soldier—Dee-Ay—reassured his contact. Dipper could tell from the slight edge in the man's voice that he wasn't going to take no for an answer. Dee-Ay turned to the young teen. "Look, kid, I know you're probably wanting to get out of this hellhole. I can help you, but I need you to trust me, got it?"

Dipper nodded in response. The thought of getting out of this nightmare and going back home to Mabel and Grunkle Stan never felt sweeter.

"Good." With that he pulled out a pistol and holster from his belt. He unclipped his survival knife as well, and held both items out to Dipper. The boy was every bit as skeptical as he was relieved. While he was thankful that he wasn't charging into the fray unarmed, Dipper had only fired a gun once, back when Grunkle Ford had taken him target shooting out in the woods. Needless to say, Dipper hadn't been a good shot. Dipper was just about to accept the weapons when the soldier held them back suddenly, a warning shining in the older man's eyes.

"For emergencies only, am I clear?" the man demanded sternly.

Dipper audibly swallowed down his fear before answering. "Yeah," Dipper replied. He strapped the belt on and tucked the knife away.

"So, what do you say we find a way out of here, kid?"

The cold reply from the intercom caused Dipper's blood to turn to ice. "Sorry, my friend. But I'm afraid the last train out of hell has just departed."

Dipper knew that voice anywhere. It was the voice of the man who kidnapped him.

His thoughts stopped going wild at the sound of the lab doors opening. Silhouettes emerged from the shadows, their bodies in various states of decay. Their whitened eyes portrayed nothing but emptiness. Dipper's heart nearly burst from fear when he spotted a shade of red on their claws that didn't blend in with the red color of their skin. The creatures, numbering about four to five, shambled out into the open, all showing hungry looks on their faces.

Dipper could've sworn he heard his captor's cruel laugh before the monsters set their blank eyes on the younger twin.

"Now that the pleasantries are over with," the man in the sunglasses announced, "Let the game begin."


	3. Chapter 3

"Dipper! Dipper, where are you? Dipper?"

Mabel groaned in worry when she received no reply other than the chirping of the birds.

At first, when she had noticed Dipper didn't come back from the job Grunkle Stan sent him out for, she figured he was out on one of his monster hunting trips, and that he would be back by late afternoon. But then late afternoon turned to evening, and then evening turned to morning, and then morning turned to Mabel attempting to convince Stan to file a missing person report for her lost twin brother.

She knew Dipper better than anyone, and she knew he'd be out in the woods somewhere. But that didn't stop her from worrying about him. She shuddered at the memories of last night's incident, where a nightmare involving Dipper's cold, dead body caused her to wake up screaming. Images of her brother lost, hurt, cold, and alone had been tormenting Mabel's mind all morning.

"Dipper?" she called out again. Even though she knew her calls would probably go unanswered, she wasn't giving up that easily.

"Calm down, kiddo," she heard Stan call from behind her. "Dipper's tougher than you think, not to mention he knows this forest like the back of his hand. We'll find him. It's just a matter of time."

"Will we?" Mabel questioned, doubt plaguing her mind like a virus. "If he knew this forest, he wouldn't have gotten lost at all! Something's wrong, Grunkle Stan. I know it!"

"Okay, Mabel. Just relax. If we can't find Dipper by sundown, we'll go to the cops then."

Stan's comforting words silenced Mabel on the outside, but even the calming words didn't silence her distressed heart.

Mabel decided to take her mind off of finding Dipper, and look at the wildlife instead. The squirrels, for instance. They were cute to watch. The way the two rodents fought over food made Mabel laugh half-heartedly. It reminded her of the times she and Dipper spent arguing with each other.

"Mabel, watch out!"

By the time the older twin had registered Grunkle Stan's warning, her left foot had already tripped over the tree root, sending her tumbling down the hill. Luckily, she wasn't hurt.

"Mabel, oh thank goodness. Are you okay?" Stan asked, sprinting to where she lay.

The girl would've acknowledged her great uncle's concern, but she was too busy staring at the item in front of her.

It was Dipper's sketch pad. He rarely went anywhere without it, so Mabel was surprised as to why the notebook had been left out in the clearing. She picked the book up, gasping as she read the only note she knew wasn't in Dipper's handwriting:

 _You can't run forever!_

Mabel's worry instantly turned to heartache. Something had happened to Dipper. But what happened, who did it, and why?

The older twin was drawn from her thoughts by a noise in the distance. It sounded like…was that chewing? Yes, that was definitely chewing. After a moment, the girl found the source of the noise. What she saw would terrify even the bravest person in Gravity Falls.

Laying a few feet away from Mabel was a dead werewolf. The corpse provided a banquet to the similar creature chowing down on the carcass. The living werewolf's white eyes showed hunger; the dead wolf's eyes conveyed pure fear. For a while, the only sounds that broke the silence were the second werewolf's munching on its feast.

That is, until the beast's eyes rested on Mabel.

The creature stared at the girl hungrily, saliva dangling from its lips as a result of its last meal. The werewolf let out a raspy growl of anger, before stalking toward the older twin.

Mabel attempted to back away from the monster, but soon she was trapped against the corner of the cliff. Still, the infected thing lurched forward.

"Mabel!" Stan yelled, lunging forward and wrapping his arms around the werewolf's neck. To Mabel, it looked like a horrific rodeo contest between Stan and the werewolf. The creature attempted to throw Stan off several times, but with no success. Stan continued to put up a fight, as he bashed the monster's face with his brass knuckles. "My niece is not a damn meal. You hear me?!" he roared, pummeling the beast.

Mabel continued watching the scene with intensified worry. Stan was putting up a hell of a fight, but even he wouldn't be able to hold off the werewolf forever. The beast was simply too strong. Her fears were realized when the creature abruptly snatched her great uncle in its claws, and tossed him to the ground. The monster turned to Mabel, its claws extended and ready to finish what it had started.

The only thing stopping it was a bullet piercing its skull.

Mabel turned around, getting a good look at the source of the gunshot. The deserted cliff above the clearing now provided an excellent spot for the newcomer. The man's cut, black hair flowed in the wind, and he held a determination in his brown eyes, one of which peered through the scope of a hunting rifle. "Come on! This way!" he hollered to the people below.

The thought to stay with this creature any longer never crossed Mabel's mind. She reached up, and felt the man's strong grip as he pulled her to safety. Stan was next, the hunter straining as he pulled the older man out of the clearing. "Go! Move it!" the man ordered, firing another shot that penetrated the werewolf's heart. The monster roared in pain, and attempted to climb after its prey, but another shot from the man's rifle finally downed the monster for good.

Mabel was so overcome by fear that she barely acknowledged her great uncle's presence. The con artist picked her up and sprinted back to the Mystery Shack, their mysterious new ally close behind. "It'll be okay, kid," she heard Stan whisper in her ear. She didn't know who this newcomer was, but he had saved her life. So many questions rolled through Mabel's brain, but she was too grateful for the comfort of the Shack to try to ask any of them.

"See?" Stan reassured his niece. "We're all right. You're safe." Both residents of the Shack turned to their mysterious guardian angel. "Thanks for the help back there, whoever you are."

Out of all the responses the man could've given, the pistol pointed at the con artist's heart shocked Stan to his core. "Are you bitten?" the hunter demanded.

"What?" Stan confusedly asked. Mabel cowered in fear, realizing what the man's intentions were, at last. She and Grunkle Stan had stepped out of the frying pan, and straight into the fire.

"Those wolves are infected with something, and it's beginning to spread. I'm not asking again. Were you or the child bitten?"

"No. No, no, we're completely fine," Stan raised his arms to show that he wasn't a threat. "Just shaken up, that's all." From where she stood behind her uncle, Mabel could barely read the inscription on the side of the gun: _S.T.A.R.S._

"Fine. I believe you. But if I notice otherwise…" the man trailed off, letting the implication hang in the air. He placed the gun back in its holster, and strolled toward the door.

"Not so fast," Stan warned, blocking the exit. "We answered your question. Now you need to answer ours. What the heck happened out there?"

The man pulled up a seat at the kitchen table; Mabel followed suit. Only Stan remained on his feet, unsure of whether to trust this person after he had just pointed a gun at his family. "How you people can live out in a crazy place such as this is beyond me."

"This coming from the man who just threatened to shoot my niece! I don't care who you are, you've got no right to threaten us like that!" Stan shot back heatedly.

"Stop!" Mabel cried out. Both sets of eyes landed on her. "I'm not going to sit here and listen to you two argue when my brother is missing," she continued, her voice quivering much more than usual.

Stan let out a sigh filled with regret. "She's right, you know," he replied to the hunter. "Fighting isn't going to get us any closer to find Dipper. We were looking for him when that werewolf attacked. What was the deal with that thing, anyway?"

"I think I have a clue," the man replied. He passed something to Stan. It was a shoulder patch. The design struck the two relatives as odd-looking: hexagonal, red and white colored, and stained with dried blood. "I found that on a dead soldier near the first wolf's corpse. I know that corporation anywhere, and let's just say its employees have a habit of playing god."

"I also found something," Mabel interjected. "It's my brother's notebook, and there's a message in there that he didn't write." She passed the sketch pad to the man.

"Interesting," the hunter replied, standing up slowly. "There's a drawing in here, too. Recognize anything?" he asked, handing the note to Stan.

"That werewolf…it looks like…" Stan whispered.

"If your nephew was spying on that first wolf, then maybe it's no coincidence that he's missing. I think this corporation might be tying up loose ends."

Mabel started to stand up, with Stan gently taking her by the arm. "Maybe we should call it a day, Mabel," the older man suggested.

"No! Dipper's still out there. I'm not resting until we find him," the twin stubbornly replied. She didn't want to give up. She couldn't give up. Dipper had never given up on her when she needed it.

"Your uncle's got a point kiddo," the newcomer added, dashing away any hope Mabel had. Slowly he knelt beside her, his stoic look giving way to a concerned smile. "Look, I know it sounds crazy, but…" he seemed to have trouble finding words before he continued. "I know what it's like to lose someone. A few years back, I lost a partner of mine, and it was devastating for me. But it was just a matter of time before I found her again. I'm certain we'll find your brother too. I promise."

Mabel sniffled, wiping a few stray tears from her eyes. The man, determined as he was, had a valid point. Dipper would turn up eventually. Maybe he got lost and was staying at a motel for the night. Not to mention that she'd had a long day. She could use some rest. Stan and Mabel could always go look for Dipper later today.

The man got up, and began to stroll toward the door. The girl's voice was the only thing stopping him in his tracks. "Wait! You never told us who—"

"Chris," he replied, looking over his shoulder and smiling at the girl. "My name's Chris."

* * *

 **Let's be honest: I think we all know Chris was going to show up in this story sooner or later.**

 **Just a little tidbit: for the purposes of this story, I'm disregarding the events of Operation: Raccoon City and Resident Evil 6.**

 **Anyways, reviews and concerns would be appreciated. Thanks for the support, and have a great day! :)**


	4. Chapter 4

Dipper had seen many grotesque monstrosities during his last summer in Gravity Falls, but the crimson-colored freaks lunging at him had to be a new level.

The monsters lurched forward, saliva dripping from their mangled lips. Dee-Ay reacted swiftly, raising his automatic rifle to put the beast out of its misery, but the infected was quicker. The crimson headed freak swiped at the soldier, and was rewarded with the butt of a rifle smacking across its face, sending blood and spit flying. By the time the creature recovered, Dee-Ay had already lodged a spray of bullets into its brain.

And here Dipper was, just standing frozen like an idiot. The boy snapped himself from his trance in time to dodge a lunging swipe from another one of the monsters. Aiming his handgun at the mutant, the younger Pines twin turned to fire on the creature, but was rewarded only with an empty click. Fear coursed through the teen's veins as he realized he had forgotten to switch the safety off.

There were times where Dipper wished Grunkle Ford was around to help him out. Unfortunately, this was one of those times, as the journal author had taken time off from his voyages to visit the twins' parents in Piedmont. While Dipper was busy fumbling with the safety, the monster took the opportunity to pin him against the lab table, gnashing its blood-stained teeth as it repeatedly leaned in close for a bite. Thinking fast, Dipper's shaking hands pulled out the knife, and rammed the blade straight into the monster's brain.

Even though the crimson head was dead, Dipper still had no time to breathe. He turned and noticed that Dee-Ay was facing his own problems. The final monster had taken the opportunity to swipe at the soldier, drawing blood from the man's leg.

Dipper aimed carefully at the creature. The pistol bucked in his hands as he pulled the trigger. The bullet missed entirely, ricocheting off the barely-lit walls. He concentrated and tried again, this time firing on the creature with everything he had. Dipper's aim with a gun clearly showed that he wasn't fit to use one. Half of the shots flew straight past their intended target, and some barely hit the creature's limbs.

 _Take a deep breath,_ Dipper told himself, reminding himself of all the impossible odds he'd gone up against. He met the author of the journals, and he defeated Bill last summer. He had saved his sister's life on countless occasions. If he could do all of that, then he could surely learn how to aim a gun. _You can do this. You can do this._

The twin, praying he wouldn't miss, finally squeezed the trigger.

The body hit the floor instantly, a bullet lodged in the skull.

Dipper felt a sense of accomplishment rise within him. He'd actually hit the monster in the head. Dee-Ay seemed to notice this too, if his impressed grin was anything to go by. "Nice shot," he remarked.

The kid opened his mouth to reply, but was interrupted by a voice in the darkness. "I couldn't agree more. You have a remarkable sense of instinct, Mr. Pines. You'll need that for what I've got planned."

Dipper snapped his head to the source of the sound. There, observing the chaos from a giant glass window, was the man in the sunglasses. "Who are you? What do you want from me?" Dipper yelled, finally fed up with his captor's secrets.

"Let's just say I'm a shadow, following your every move. What I want is no concern of yours, boy," the leader replied. "All you should be concerned about is surviving the game."

 _BANG!_

The sound of a gunshot caused the teen to jump out of his skin. His attention snapped from the bullet hole in the window to Dee-Ay's rifle. "Game over," the soldier spoke darkly. He turned to where Dipper stood, petrified with fear. "C'mon. The exit's just over here."

Shaking himself out of his stupor, Dipper trotted behind the older man. The darkness beyond the lab enticed the duo, and thoughts of getting out of this God-forsaken place beckoned Dipper even closer to the door.

In a matter of seconds, Dipper and Dee-Ay had reached the door. With the push of a button, Dee-Ay opened up their ticket to freedom. Dipper's heart was racing with excitement. He would finally make it out of this dreadful place and go home.

 _GRRRRROWWWLLL!_

Or not.

The new shape leapt into the makeshift arena, and the excitement the twin felt immediately turned to fear.

Dee-Ay's reaction was similar, the surprised look on his face revealing everything. "Wrong door," he muttered.

The infected monster appeared bipedal, his four limbs crawling along the ground as it turned its mutated head toward the two survivors. Dipper's heart beat faster with each step this new monstrosity took toward him. The creature's tongue elongated, the serpent slithering wildly in its putrid-smelling mouth. _Eck. Gross!_ Dipper thought disgustedly.

"What's the matter? You didn't think the game was over, did you, Mr. Pines?" the man with the sunglasses observed, as he stared through the window at his young captive. "The game has only just begun. And you're losing."

The monster continued to crawl forward. In his peripheral vision, Dipper noticed Dee-Ay mouth a single phrase: "Stay quiet."

The teen was confused as to why the creature hadn't attacked yet, but his question was answered when he noticed a smooth space where the freak's eyes should've been. Dipper did as he was instructed, keeping his steps light and his breathing shallow, lest the bipedal freak hear him. Dipper and Dee-Ay tiptoed along the walls of the proving grounds, and as the teen noticed his ally lead him toward another door, he wondered if this was the real exit. What if there wasn't an exit? What if the mysterious captor had tricked them, and loaded the doorways with all kinds of mutants and nightmarish horrors. Dipper knew he was hoping against hope, but he had to stay strong. _What are the odds of this guy pulling more tricks?_ He thought. _I can do this. I can make it out of here alive, right?_

The sound of panicked yelling destroyed Dipper's hope instantly.

Whipping his head around, Dipper's eyes widened at the alarming sight. Dee-Ay thrashed and kicked his way out of the crimson creature's grip, before silencing the freak with a bullet. Unfortunately, that was all that was needed for the infected monster to dash toward the two.

Next thing Dipper knew, he felt himself flying through the door, the floor scraping his body upon impact. Rubbing his sore head, he sat up, just in time to catch an object tossed in his direction. It was the soldier's phone. "Get out of here! Now!" Dee-Ay roared, reloading his rifle.

The monster lurched toward the two at an ungodly pace, only for a spray of bullets to send the infected thing to the ground, dazed but not dead. The infected thing's tongue lashed forward, smacking the rifle out of Dee-Ay's clutches, before lunging at the two survivors.

The last Dipper saw of Dee-Ay was the softening of his features, as the soldier slammed the door shut in the younger twin's face.

Even though the door was made of steel, Dipper could still hear gunfire and the occasional scream from beyond the entrance. As much as he wanted to hope that Dee-Ay would get out alive, the young man knew the soldier's chances were slim. His hands fumbled around Dee-Ay's phone, shakily picking the device up.

"Hello? Dee-Ay? What's happening?"

The teen recognized the voice almost instantly. It was the woman from before. "Who is this?" Dipper stammered, still shaken up from everything that had occurred in the past few minutes.

"Oh, God…he's dead…isn't he?" the contact replied, her voice a mixture of shock and concern. "What about you? Are you all right?"

"Prophet, isn't it?" the teen guessed, quickly wanting to get off the subject of Dee-Ay's untimely end. "What is going on here?"

"Look, I'm as confused as you are, kid. Dee-Ay and I arrived here only hours ago to investigate. You're in a facility belonging to the Umbrella Corporation, or what's left of it, at any rate."

"Investigate what?" Dipper pressed on, urging her to continue. _I've had enough secrets for one day, thank you very much._ "Stop beating around the bush. All I want to know is what's going on, and why there's a man with sunglasses trying to kill me!"

"I'm sorry, a what? Oh, God, you've met him. I'll explain later. In the meantime, I'm sending you some coordinates. Dee-Ay and I were supposed to meet in a security depot once we were finished with this little…operation. If you meet me there, I can help you escape."

"Give me a good reason why I should listen to you!" Dipper stubbornly replied. Trust no one. That was what the third journal had said, back when Dipper still had it. For all he knew, this woman could simply be a spy sent to kill him, or worse…

"How about this: I'm not the one trying to mutate you or bite your head off! I'm not your enemy here. Umbrella is." The woman's counter was laced with a fiery temper, and Dipper made a mental note to himself to not piss this woman off.

With that, the woman ended the call. Dipper pocketed the radio, and walked down the hallway, his pistol aimed at any potential threats lurking in the dimly-lit corridor.

He had a million reasons to not trust this woman, but in the back of his mind, there was only one reason that justified why he should trust her, one that blew Dipper's argument out of the water.

Right now, she was the only help he had.

* * *

 **And…another chapter done. Because you guys look like you could use a story update right about now.**

 **Any thoughts? I highly encourage constructive criticism, and I'd be willing to listen to whatever advice you guys have to give. I wanted to clarify that this story takes place after the Gravity Falls series, since I noticed some of you had questions regarding the timeline. No need to worry; I did my research…sort of. Lol.**

 **I also felt you guys have the right to know that my posts are going to be rather infrequent for the time being. It's been busy for me at school, especially since the end of the semester is coming up fast.**

 **Anyways, thanks for the support, and have a great day. Oh, and kudos to anyone who caught the Saw reference. :)**


	5. Chapter 5

Some days, Ford Pines wondered if it was worth going on vacation.

He'd rushed back down to Gravity Falls as soon as he got Stan's message. It wasn't easy. He'd had a difficult time convincing Dipper and Mabel's parents that he had a business emergency to attend to.

On the outside, Ford's face showed a calm, determined expression. Inside, however, Ford was panicking as much as any worried guardian would. But he didn't show it. He knew he couldn't express any signs of fear to his brother, or to Mabel. Mabel was in tears about her Dipper's disappearance, and Stan was more concerned about the trustworthiness of the man they had met in the woods. Someone had to stay strong for the family's sake, and Ford figured he'd be that someone.

The other thing that concerned him was the person out in the forest. According to what Stan had told him, this newcomer was much more vigilant than was necessary. Apparently, the man had even gone as far as to point a gun at Stan and Mabel.

Ford waltzed over to the living room, where he found Stan sitting in his favorite chair. "I came as quickly as I could," Ford started.

"You didn't need to come all the way here, you know," Stan mumbled in reply.

"The hell I didn't!" the explorer snapped, shock evident on his face at his brother's word choice. "He's my nephew too, and I certainly am _not_ going to leave his fate in the hands of some gun-toting wanderer. Why are we even working with him?"

"I don't like it any more that you do, Stanford," his twin brother replied, concern evident in his voice. "But the more I look at it, the more it seems that this new guy has an idea of what's going on here. Part of me thinks he knows what he's doing, and the more hands we have searching for Dipper, the better."

The newcomer—Chris Redfield, as he'd identified himself—suddenly opened the door, strolling past the two.

"Well, speak of the devil," Stan greeted the man. "You find anything?"

Chris let out a heavy sigh. "I'm afraid not. How's your niece doing?" he asked, turning to Stan.

"She's upstairs," Stan replied. "Ford, do you wanna go talk to her?"

"Leave that to me," Chris replied confidently. "I think I know what she's upset about." He continued toward the staircase, hoping that this time, he would get through to Mabel.

The only thing he didn't bet on was Ford blocking his path.

"Let's get one thing straight," Ford growled, sizing up the younger man. "I have about ten or eleven guns hidden in this house. You threaten my niece again, and I will not hesitate to grab one of those guns and shoot you with it. Am I clear?"

"Crystal," Chris confirmed, his tone filled with a cold determination that rivaled Ford's voice. With that, the supernatural explorer reluctantly stepped aside, allowing Chris to ascend the stairs. He stopped at the top step, before calling out to Ford, "I'm a much better shot than you, and I've had more experience. Keep that in mind whenever you're thinking of keeping me on a leash."

With his threat finished, Chris finally approached the door to the loft.

Ford watched the man with a careful eye. Something annoying struck the explorer about Redfield's sense of authority, and he didn't like it. _It's probably best to keep my gun ready for a knife in the back,_ he thought. He turned to see Stan sitting in his favorite chair, a smile plastered on his brother's face.

"What?" Ford demanded.

"You want me to get you some ice?" Stan snickered, trying not to burst out laughing. "Cause you just got burned."

Ford had a hard time keeping his face from turning redder than it already was. _Oh sure. Leave it to Stanley to turn a life or death situation into a comedy show._

* * *

Mabel sat on her bed in the upstairs loft, her face showing absolute worry. The teen stared at her scrapbook, a display of all the moments she and Dipper had shared together. Despite the kind words her new ally, Chris, had spoken to her, she couldn't take her mind off of Dipper. Mabel glanced up from her scrapbook toward the empty bed across from hers. For a moment, her overactive imagination pictured her twin brother, lying on his back, and reading from his journal. She let out a heavy sigh. It just wasn't the same without Dipper there to guide her.

Her train of thought was interrupted by a knock on the door. She pivoted her head and noticed Chris, leaning on the door frame, both hands in the pockets of his jeans. "You doing ok?" he asked.

The young lady nodded, scooting so the man could sit beside her. After a while, Mabel finally couldn't keep quiet any longer. "How are you so certain that Dipper will be all right?"

Chris' brown eyes stared in bewilderment. "Who says I'm certain about anything?"

"You were certain when you found your friend," Mabel replied. "Dipper and I…we're not like you. We get scared. You don't. You sounded so confident when you found your partner, yet I don't know if I'll ever see my brother again."

The man remained silent, not knowing what to say.

Discouraged, Mabel hopped off the bed, and headed toward the door, where her pet, Waddles, was waiting. "Hey, Waddles," she mumbled, leaning down to pet the pig. Maybe Grunkle Stan could cheer her up somehow.

"Her name's Jill."

Chris' rough voice stopped Mabel in her tracks. "What was that?" she turned to listen closely.

"My partner. Her name's Jill Valentine, and I was scared as hell when I was looking for her," the man sighed, rubbing his forehead. It was as if he was struggling to recall whatever events plagued his mind. "When I finally found Jill, she'd…she'd changed. She'd done things she couldn't forgive herself for. It's been maybe three years now, and we still have to help pull each other through tough moments."

"I understand. My brother and I felt the same way last summer."

"What did you two do?"

Mabel hesitated. "My Grunkle Stan is actually a twin himself. He and my other Grunkle, Ford, they didn't always have the best of relationships. Sometimes, I can't help but wonder if that's gonna happen to me and Dipper. He actually considered leaving me to become Ford's apprentice or whatever. Let's just say it was a matter of life or death convincing him to stay." She shuddered, drawing in a deep breath to calm her nerves. Her heart felt as broken as the glass of the rift when she handed it over to Bill. She had been so worried that everyone would blame and hate her for what she did."

The man chuckled, causing Mabel to blink at him in surprise. "What's so funny?"

"What kind of a name is 'Dipper,' anyway?" Chris questioned.

Her lips extended into a smile. Fine. If her new friend wanted to change the subject, she'd play along. "His real name's Mason. He has a birthmark shaped like the Big Dipper. People at school used to tease him about it."

"Ah," Chris understood, nodding his head.

"Dipper and I are best friends," Mabel continued cheerfully. "I used to brag about being taller than him, and he used to brag about the number of times he beat me in chess. He's good at cheering people up too. One time, when I got gum stuck in my hair on Picture Day, he shaved part of his head." She snickered, her smile growing wider as she recalled the memory, and stared at the photo that came with it.

"I see what you mean. Back when I was a member of S.T.A.R.S., Jill and I used to joke about our captain. His name was Albert, and he always wore sunglasses, even indoors. He was fearless, too. I tried to prank him by dressing up as a chainsaw-wielding maniac, and he didn't even flinch. His only reaction was a comment on how ridiculous I looked."

"He sounds like a tough leader," Mabel remarked, placing her hand on the man's shoulder.

"He was…and he was a good friend." Chris' smile faded along with his cursed thoughts, and Mabel could tell there was more to the story than what the man was giving away.

"Was? What happened?" she pleaded with him to continue the story.

"What happened was…I trusted him. I trusted him too much…and he took advantage of it." His brow furrowed, and Mabel decided it would be best if she didn't ask any more questions. She was about to talk more about her brother when the sound of a scuffle caught her attention. "What the hell?" Chris mumbled. Almost immediately, he hopped off the bed, and quickly sped downstairs. Mabel followed suit.

The first thing Mabel noticed when she reached the living room downstairs was Stan, leaning over a figure. Mabel's heart leaped with joy when she looked into the eyes of the person standing beside him.

"Grunkle Ford!" she exclaimed, wrapping her arms around his waist in a hug.

"Good to see you too, pumpkin," Ford replied, returning the gesture with a light chuckle.

"What have we got here?" Chris asked, snapping their focus back to the task at hand. He knelt down in front of the soldier tied to the chair.

"I found this snooper outside while you two were chatting away," Stan answered. "Figured you might want to have a word with him. Isn't that right, buddy?" he snapped, turning his steel gaze to the bound stalker.

"Screw you," was the soldier's cold-hearted response. A response that earned him a blow to the head from the conman. Ford gave Stan a questionable look, and Mabel briefly wondered if she should be watching the scene in front of her.

"Here's how this is gonna go down," Chris threatened, jabbing the muzzle of his gun under the captive's chin. "You can tell us what you did with Mason Pines, or you can spend the rest of your damn life eating through a straw. Take your pick."

"I didn't _do_ anything with the punk, asshole," the soldier retorted, launching a glob of spit that landed dangerously close to Redfield's eye, leaving the agent to wipe the offending fluid away.

"That's it!" Mabel shouted, jumping on the man's lap, and shaking him loosely. "Where. Is. My. Brother?!" she roared, shaking the man and threatening to tip the chair over multiple times.

"Okay, okay, jeez," the stalker cried out, his voice indicating that he was clearly scared out of his wits. "There's a convoy. He said it was supposed to leave town around late afternoon."

"Who's he?" Chris pressed, the gun urging the soldier to continue.

"He didn't give me his name, man. All he said was that he knows you guys. That's all I know, I swear it."

"That's fine," Chris replied, lowering his gun. "I believe you."

He adjusted his aim with the pistol. Ford had barely covered Mabel's eyes before the gunshot rang out. Immediately the silence in the room was eliminated by an earth-shattering scream. In her peripheral vision, the girl noticed the soldier had been thrown out of the Mystery Shack, clutching his leg in agony.

"If you're lying, I'll aim for the head next time," Chris threatened, before knocking the thug out with a kick to the face. He turned to the family gathered in the living room. "Let's move. We've got a convoy to catch."

Mabel raced back upstairs, and reached for her grappling hook, before following her family and Chris out the door. She desperately hoped this convoy would hold some answers. Even if it did, the Pines family had some work to do if they wanted to see Dipper again. But it would be worth it. It would be worth the effort to hold Dipper in her arms, laugh with him, and support him just as any good sibling would. Dipper and Mabel had always been there for each other throughout the years, and Mabel wasn't about to abandon that friendship so easily.

 _Don't worry, Dipper,_ Mabel thought, as she followed the men out to the car. _We're coming to save you._

* * *

 **Let that be a lesson to you Ford: never talk smack to a zombie-killing machine.**

 **Just a quick note: I wanted to emphasize on Mabel's caring about her brother. I understand she's a innocent kid most of the time, so if I goofed up her personality a little, please feel free to point it out.**

 **Also, I just feel the need to say this now, and get it over with: The friendship between Chris and Wesker is just a friendship. I enjoy reading a good Chris x Wesker story just as much as the next guy, but I don't think I'm comfortable writing that sort of stuff. I hope you guys understand.**

 **Anyways, hope you guys enjoyed the reading. Thanks for the support, and have a great day. :)**


	6. Chapter 6

_What have I done to tick off the universe this time?_ This was the one thought that roamed through Dipper's brain the most.

He scrambled through the doorway, straining as he pushed the glass barrier closed. Only when he heard the satisfying click of the door did he finally stop running. _That ought to hold that thing off_. As much as Dipper wanted to believe his own thoughts, he knew it was only a matter of time before that monster from the lab spotted its prey.

"I suppose you've earned yourself a break, Mr. Pines."

 _Oh, yeah. Then there's this guy to worry about._

"Actually, now that I consider it, you really need one. Because if you think the game was difficult before, you haven't seen the worst of it." That man's voice again. What was up with this guy? Who is he, anyway?

As enjoyable as the mystery of the man's identity sounded to Dipper, he decided it needed to wait. Getting out of this place alive had to be his top priority. He continued moving forward, his knife aimed at any monster that threatened to leap out from the corners. Taking the opportunity to survey his surroundings proved useful. The room he'd locked himself in was practically a mirror image of the lab he woke up in. Same stark white walls, same bloody stains on the floor, same creatures wanting to kill him—

Wait. Creatures?

 _Oh no,_ Dipper thought, his head slowly swiveling around to face the nightmare. The crimson monsters, all four of them, were currently digging into the bountiful feast that was once a human. Dipper felt bile rise up in his throat, but he swallowed it down just as quickly, along with his fear. His eyes spotted a doorway to the left of the creatures. _Maybe if I could get through that door, I could find a way onto the observation deck. But those creatures are still there…_

The boy silently creeped his way across the makeshift proving grounds, his eyes firmly locked onto what he now believed to be demons straight out of hell. This left him struggling to traverse the dark room by touch alone, his hands fumbling around for any sign that he was close to the observation deck's doorway. _So far, so good…_ Dipper thought, grateful that the infected monsters were still occupied with their meal. The medical tunic he wore was damp from the bullets of sweat, and he knew that if he was spotted, well…one would suffice to say he hoped he'd be able to salvage the tattered remains of the monsters' pants.

His eyes widened with joy as his hand finally grasped it. The handle of the door. The teen was surprised that the door was unlocked, but nonetheless, Dipper wasted no time slamming shut and locking the door behind him. Dipper was grateful for the lifeline as he leaned on the stair railing, his breaths escaping him in quick gasps. Fighting and running from bloodthirsty, infected mutants seriously came with its fair share of disadvantages.

He turned his head, and shouted in horror as brown eyes came face to face with monstrous white.

The crimson-headed freak banged on the door with the sharp talons that were now its mangled hands. Dipper raised his gun to fire, but breathed a sigh of relief as he realized he wouldn't need it. The teen was more than grateful that he had locked the door behind him, but he knew that the barricade wouldn't last forever. By the time Dipper had begun to ascend the staircase, the glass paneling on the door frame was starting to succumb to the monster's sheer strength.

As he leaned on the railing for support, it seemed that the only other enemy he had in this forsaken place besides the monsters was his own failing stamina. The younger Pines twin had spent the past hour running and hiding from every mutant the man with the sunglasses had sent after him. It took an eternity for the boy to climb the stairs, and he desperately wished that there were elevators around here. By the time he reached the top step, he was on his knees, taking in quick sharp breaths that would've revealed his exhaustion to anyone watching him. The teen was surprised by the unlocked state of the door, though it was a mistake he easily fixed as he slammed the door shut behind him. Dipper's eyes glared at his surroundings, the twin half-expecting another infected freak to pop out at any moment.

That was when he noticed the desk. The clutter on the table highly suggested that no one bothered to clean it, and the cobwebs and dust bunnies under the table showed evidence to suggest that the decision to not clean it was made a long time ago. As Dipper gazed at the desk full of photos, he could barely hold back a gasp. Each and every one of them showed creatures from Gravity Falls. He recognized the gnomes in one photo almost instantly. Another showcased that ghost from the Northwest Manor. Even Dipper and Mabel showed up in a few pictures. _How do they know?_ Dipper thought warily. _How do they know about our adventures?_ As creepy as all the other photos were, none were as horrifying as the ones that showed _him_.

Bill Cipher.

The teen didn't even try to shove the horrifying memories back in his head, because they were all laid out for anyone to see. The moment where Gideon summoned Bill, the fracture caused by the broken rift during Weirdmaggedon. The yellow in Dipper's eyes, as Bill used the younger twin's own body against him and Mabel. Questions roared in the boy's mind. Why was Dipper's captor so interested in his adventures, and how was Bill involved? It was clear now that someone had planned to kidnap him from the start, but why? What could the man with the sunglasses gain out of spying on Gravity Falls?

Dipper's fear-numbed hands pulled out the radio. "Prophet, what is all of this?" he warily asked his new ally.

"More data, I'm assuming," replied the woman's voice. "Take a good look, kid. This is what Umbrella Corps does to innocent lives on a daily business. And it's also what Dee-Ay and I were trying to stop." Dipper heard an audible sigh before his contact continued. "I know you don't want to trust me, and I don't blame you. I just thought you would be willing to help." The voice was filled with sincere regret, but Dipper wasn't convinced. He still had doubts regarding who this person was, and what her intentions were. _But, if she has her own motives, why would she send Dee-Ay to rescue me?_

"Look, kid, if you need a way out of this hellhole, I can hook you up," Prophet continued. "You've got questions, and I'm certain I have the answers to most of them. But…I can't just hand out info to anyone. You understand, right?"

Dipper nearly dropped the radio in shock. He knew his own paranoia tended to throw a monkey wrench into the gears, but he never knew that this person had trust issues as well. The teen took a deep breath. _Like it or not, she and I are in this together. She's trying to stop my captors, and I'm trying to escape from them. Maybe we can kill two birds with one stone._

"Prophet, I…" Dipper stammered, uncertain of where to begin. Then it dawned on him. He'd never even told Dee-Ay or Prophet who he was. Maybe that might be a good place to start. "My name is Dipper Pines, and I do need your help."

"Nice to meet you, Dipper. What would you like to know?"

"For starters," Dipper pondered for a moment before speaking, "Tell me everything you know about that man with the sunglasses.

"Gladly. His name is Albert Wesker. He's a former Umbrella employee turned bioterrorist. My best guess is that he's the one in charge of this whole setup, though I don't see how that's possible."

"Why not?"

"A friend of mine reported that he last encountered Albert in Kijuju, Africa. That was the place where anyone saw him last, and it was the place where Wesker was supposedly killed."

"And the scientist helping him?" the teen inquired.

"Every mad scientist has a lab assistant, and Wesker is no different. He recently hired an Umbrella scientist by the name of Abraham Jackson. Jackson went AWOL after he launched an investigation into Umbrella Corps' leadership over a year ago. Wesker must've tracked him down."

Dr. Abraham Jackson. He was that same scientist who objected to Dipper's death, back when Dipper first woke up in that…he was unsure what to call it at this point. Lab? Hellhole? Death trap? "Where is this guy?" Dipper growled, practically feeling steam shoot out of his ears at his failed attempts to keep his anger under control.

"Closer than you think," a new voice rang out.

Dipper swiveled around, finding the silhouette of the voice's owner in the doorway. The boy rushed forward, only stopping once the glass door slammed shut on his only escape route.

Dipper recognized the pristine lab coat almost instantly. It was the attire of the devil's right-hand man.

"You people certainly have a habit of digging where you're not supposed to," Jackson spoke, his hands clasped behind his back. "My apologies, kid. Me and my "shadow," or however the hell he put it, couldn't help but notice you stalking around."

"It takes a stalker to know one," Dipper retorted, inwardly smiling at the scowl written on the scientist's face. The teen reached for his handgun, thinking maybe he could shoot out the glass, but Jackson's stern voice stopped him in his tracks.

"I wouldn't," he warned holding up a remote for the younger Pines twin to stare at. "See this? You seemed to have something wrong with your _arm_ when we found you. Don't worry, I managed to fix it up."

The boy could only stare in shock. It made sense now. The bandage on his arm, the burning sensation he'd been feeling ever since he woke up. _Oh no,_ Dipper realized. _That psycho planted something in my arm while I was out_. For all he knew it could be a bomb, an electroshock device, anything.

"Oh, and I wouldn't try anything clever," Jackson threatened, dangling the remote from his fingertips. "For all you know, my hand just might slip, and…" he released his grip suddenly, allowing the remote to freefall into the opposite palm. Dipper let out a breath he didn't know he was holding once he realized Jackson hadn't pressed anything. "Well, use your imagination," the mad doctor continued, his eyes narrowing to slits. "Do yourself a favor, and stay away. Next time, I won't be in such a generous mood."

A sudden roar caught Dipper's attention. He craned his neck around, and scanned every inch of the room to find the source of the noise. But there was only silence. Dead silence. Just as there had been when the young adventurer first woke up here. He turned to face Dr. Jackson once more, ready to break down the glass door.

A sickening splat on his shoulder held him back.

Dipper groaned in disgust, his head turning away as he attempted to wipe away the fluid that had landed on his shoulder. As the teen struggled to keep his stomach contents from suddenly reappearing, he noticed a small puddle of the same fluid. _Ugh. Someone please tell me that's just a leaky pipe,_ he thought as he glanced up at the source of the puddle.

It wasn't.

He was barely able to scoot away as the monster pounced. Dipper recognized the bipedal form and the serpent-like tongue in a heartbeat. It was that lizard creature that had slaughtered Dee-Ay. The boy's fear overwhelmed him, his entire form trembling much like an animal would before the predators tore them apart. Dipper slowly swiveled around, placing his fear-numbed hands on the glass. His frightened brown eyes desperately glanced up at Dr. Jackson, hoping to find any sign that showed that he would defend Dipper now, as he had from Albert Wesker.

The mad doctor's icy blue eyes showed nothing short of apathy. Instead, Jackson smirked the smile of a predator. A smile that signed poor Dipper's death warrant. The doctor turned and walked away, slamming the door shut on Dipper's salvation…and his only hope.

The young teenager was certain now that the only thing that could make the situation even more hopeless was if a grim piano ballad was playing in the background. Dipper could already make out the notes in his head: _Dun, Dun, Dun, Dun-Dun-Dun, Dun-Dun, Dun-Dun._

As he shut his eyes, unable to bear the sight of the licker, Dipper heard the sickening sounds the creature's elongated tongue made as it reached forward. He felt the creature's tongue leave a trail of saliva as it slithered onto his neck, and Dipper had to bite his own tongue to keep from crying out at how revolting the whole situation was. He figured the monster was toying with him. The freak would probably take the chance to revel in the teen's fear, before finishing him off.

Dipper didn't want to know how the monster was going to kill him, whether it be strangling him with its tongue, snapping his neck, or mauling him like it had done to Dee-Ay. All he asked was that whatever the monster was going to do, it would do it quickly.

 _Mabel…I'm sorry…_

* * *

 **Don't you just love cliffhangers? For all of you out there who want to make this scene even more hopeless, I recommend playing "Funeral March" by Chopin. It really adds to the suspense.**

 **I thought I would try something new. I figured that we would both benefit if I answered any questions from the reviewers. I probably will plan on doing this for the majority of my stories. So, without further delay:**

 **Emeraldpichu : Thanks! Let's be honest, when _does_ Wesker have anything good planned for humanity?**

 **a very angry ravage : Yes, Grunkle Ford has already returned in this story. As far as the Dead Space 2 spoiler, it's no big deal. I already know what happens, and I don't intend on going down that same road with Prophet. (Uh, spoiler alert.)**

 **Also, I would like to thank DragonicSonic, Dumbass The King, Spidershadow5, Dracois42, and abbydobbie for favoriting/following this story. Your support means so much to me, and I appreciate it.**

 **Anyways, thanks for the support, and have a great day! :)**


End file.
